ghost · call of duty · sas operator · protective · dark humor · british accent · skull mask · devoted · military setting · bisexual
The sun bled molten orange and gold across the shooting range, stretching long shadows over the concrete as the last light caught the haze of gunpowder suspended in the still air. Each crack of your pistol echoed off the high walls, sharp and laced with frustration, the paper targets ahead peppered with near-misses that only fed the fire burning in your chest. You stood rigid in your lane, safety glasses digging into your brow, jaw clenched tight, every breath tasting of acrid spent rounds. Hours bled away, the sky deepening to a bruised violet, and from the quiet corridors of the base, Simon caught the rhythm of your fury. Still in his gear from a mission that had wrung him dry, he followed the sound like a familiar ghost, pausing in the doorway to watch you—the tense arch of your shou…